


Bathed in Red

by glitzyena



Category: IZONE (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bounty Hunters, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Betrayal, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bounty Hunters, Drinking, Drug Dealing, Drugs, F/F, Gangs, Gangsters, Gun Violence, Kissing, Money, Murder, Murderers, Stealing, Violence, implied prostitution, it's gangsta chaeyena need i say more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitzyena/pseuds/glitzyena
Summary: Her lips brush against Yena’s when she talks, barely-there murmurs that spread across her skin like wildfire. “I think,” she presses a single finger to Yena’s chest when she leans in too close. “That you might just be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,”or, the long overdue chaeyena gangsta au
Relationships: Lee Chaeyeon/Choi Yena
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	Bathed in Red

**Author's Note:**

> so. hi.  
> i got hit with inspiration to write this at what, 7pm? I had 1k of it written from last year and was just overcome with the urge to finish it. like 8k words later, at the time of writing this note it’s currently 8pm the next day, ive got school in less than an hour, but it’s chaeyena so it’s worth it.  
> so is this thing pretty much plotless and just chaeyena going around being sexy badasses? yes. and you know what im not going to be shamed.
> 
> i’d really recommend listening to gangsta while reading this too actually, it was the only thing i listened to while writing and idk i think it just sort of has the same sort of vibe if you want some immersion hehe
> 
> also as mentioned i wrote this during the ungodly hours, lord only knows what my brain decided to spit onto the page, so if you see any mistakes no you didnt xx
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/glitzyena)

The bathroom smells unpleasant, to say the least. 

There’s thick coatings of grime that are slowly crawling their way up the cracked surface like water soaking into a tissue, slinking into door hinges and into the gaps between the floor tiles. There’s three lights attached to the ceiling, wires detached from them like straggles of hair, sparking in the low, flickering light. There’s a slight haze to the small, cramped room, dusty, the entire place tinted with an off-green that definitely isn’t intended. There’s a singular sink, that’s almost been devoured by those black, nauseating coats of grime, the tap looming like you’d need the strength of ten men to twist it open, and that’s assuming that water would even come out. The bowl is dry, the soap dispenser hanging from the wall, miserable and empty, and there’s a shirt thrown haphazardly on the towel rack instead of an actual towel. The faint sounds of music slip from underneath the gap in the door, the bass heavy and the beat sensuous. That smell of drink along with something else equally as potent are hung thick and heavy in the suffocating atmosphere, and everything combined is enough to make someone walk right back out the moment they open the door.

But Yena doesn’t register any of those things, not taking any of them into consideration as she manoeuvres her way through into one of the cubicles, pushing Chaeyeon against the door and bolting it shut behind her. 

Yena doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t feel the need to drag this out longer than it already has. She curls her free hand around the back of Chaeyeon’s neck, her other that had been gripping onto her wrist sliding up her arm to rest on her shoulder, her skin hot to the touch and coated in a thin sheen of sweat. 

Too worked up, Yena doesn’t put anything off, doesn’t tease or play hard to get any longer, she just tugs Chaeyeon down so that their lips meet. 

Yena doesn’t expect it to get so intense so quickly, maybe anticipating a bit of build up, but the next thing she knows is that she’s being kissed, deeply. She doesn’t know why she anticipated that she’d have to ease Chaeyeon into things at first, because now, it’s she herself that’s having to keep up, with the way Chaeyeon’s prying her lips open, open mouthed and her breath swelteringly hot. 

There’s adrenaline pumping thick through Yena’s veins that she’s sure contributes to her becoming desperate to have Chaeyeon even closer to her so quickly, or perhaps she’s just using that as an excuse. Either way, Chaeyeon lets out a soft breath when Yena presses herself flush against her, taking a hold of Yena’s chin to steady her, her other hand gripping her waist.

Delicately, Yena’s touch on her shoulder drags along her skin to Chaeyeon’s collarbones, where she brushes her blood-red hair away from her neck, practically stuck to her flesh with perspiration, and Chaeyeon shudders at the soft brush of her fingertips. Yena’s lips quirk against Chaeyeon’s at the reaction, just slightly. 

There’s no real finesse to it, just a meeting of lips and teeth and warmed skin. Yena tangles her fingers into her hair, behind her ear, and tugs with just enough force that Chaeyeon gets the picture. Her head tilted to the side, Yena moves down, leaves a trail of slow, red-hot kisses down the column of her throat, and Chaeyeon lets out another shuddered breath.

Yena drapes her arms around her shoulders, Chaeyeon being that bit taller than her. She speaks into her skin. “I got lucky tonight, hm?” 

Chaeyeon doesn’t respond for a moment, so Yena flicks her gaze up to see her staring down at her. There’s something hungry in her gaze, something a bit predatory, and Yena isn’t going to lie to herself and say something inside of her doesn’t preen at the sight. 

How she’d love to drag this on a small bit longer. But, that’s the issue - she really would quite like to, but the luxury of self indulgence isn’t really something she can afford right now. 

Gently, as to not raise any suspicions, Yena’s hand drifts down the holster she’s got hidden beneath her jacket, the jacket that Chaeyeon’s doing an awfully too good job of pushing off her shoulders. The sticky, humid air doesn’t do much to cool her down, but it’s a gesture she doesn’t put up any fight against. Rather, she’d love to respond in kind, but again, self indulgence isn’t really an option. 

It’s a pity really. Chaeyeon’s able to keep up.

She brings her lips back to Chaeyeon’s and draws her closer still, savouring the taste while she still has the chance. Gingerly, she begins to take the pistol out of the holster, readjusting her footing and breathing out a little heavier to mask the sound. Chaeyeon threads one of Yena’s arms out of her jacket entirely, the item of clothing hanging from her other elbow precariously.

Yena pulls back from her, just enough that their lips brush when she speaks. “Now…”

Sharply, she presses the nozzle of the gun to the underside of Chaeyeon’s jaw. The sound of the safety being switched off cuts through the silence.

Beneath her touch, Yena feels Chaeyeon tense abruptly, muscles pulling taught beneath her skin. Her eyes widen, and her head is tilted slightly back as an initial reaction. She’s completely frozen, rigid underneath Yena’s touch, and she blinks rapidly at the sudden change.

But then, her posture is relaxing. Her muscles become lax and her eyes return to that same, hooded manner they were before. A short, humoured breath puffs past her curled lips, and she looks up at the ceiling with a sharp glint in her eye.

 _She’s good,_ Yena thinks to herself.

She presses herself back closer to her again, arm winding around her shoulders to thread her fingers through her hair. She looks up at her through the wisps of her bangs that have fallen in front of her eyes, coy. “Not surprised?” she gives the gun a gentle nudge against her skin again, just because she can. 

“Initially, yes,” Chaeyeon admits, moving her gaze away from the ceiling to look down at her. “But now…” she gives her head a tilt to the side. “Sort of wondering how I let myself get talked into the idea that something like this wouldn’t happen,” 

Yena hums lowly. Her eyes dart to the crack in the door of the stall, where she can just about see the door to the entrance of the bathroom. “Outside that door right now…” she brings her gaze back to Chaeyeon, making sure the girl can see the way her lips move around each and every syllable. “Are two lovely gentlemen with bounties on their heads so big I could fucking bathe in them,”

Chaeyeon’s voice comes out a bit more strained. “So do you,”

Yena’s lips curve. “You flatter me,” she pauses, for tension’s sake, although Chaeyeon seems to be handling the situation rather well. Her heart rate is still the same, and she’s barely batted an eyelid. If anything, she’s looking at Yena with even more intent than before. 

Oh, she’s _exactly_ Yena’s type.

She sighs, shifting her weight onto one foot. “What are you doing with people like them? You could really do so much better,”

“They’re owed,” Chaeyeon replies simply. “I’m not one to let a debt collect dust. Besides,” she shrugs casually. “You’re worth quite the fortune. The offer was attractive,” 

“Ah,” Yena nods slowly, poking at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “So it wasn’t simply because you found me attractive, then?” 

Chaeyeon looks all too smug for someone with a gun digging into the underside of their chin. “You’re even more shameless than the rumours say you are,”

Yena chooses to ignore that comment, letting her finger drag over the trigger guard slowly, over and over, a movement she makes sure Chaeyeon can see. “You know, I really would’ve thought that I was more memorable than that,”

Chaeyeon quirks a brow at her. “How do you mean?”

Yena lets out a soft laugh, and to her delight, it garners her a shudder. “You really don’t remember me, no?” she moves her finger from the trigger guard to the trigger itself, and maybe she’s a little petty. “I know more about you than I think you’re giving me credit for,”

Only slightly, and so minutely that Yena would never have noticed if she weren’t pressed so close to her, Chaeyeon tenses up again. 

Yena bites her tongue to stop herself from grinning to wide.

She’s got her now. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Carelessly, Yena throws open the door of the building, the hinges groaning in complaint, and whining once more as the door falls shut again. Heaving a sigh, she takes off her cap, shaking out the hair that had become plastered to her forehead in the hot of the summer night, ruffling at it with her fingertips before placing the cap back atop her head._

_She’s faced with a dreary, dim looking corridor, with a raised desk directly on her right, and a staircase straight ahead. It’s cramped; she doesn’t have claustrophobia, but the lack of space even makes her the slightest bit uncomfortable, and that paired with the stifling heat makes it practically unbearable. Aside from the desk, the pace is entirely unfurnished, just darkly painted walls and a dark wooden floor. Amidst the original musty odor, Yena picks up on something sweeter: something like the faint scent of perfume, or a multitude of them mixed together._

_She walks up to the desk, and finds it empty, practically. Briefly, she checks the piece of rumpled paper she’s got in her pocket, unfolding it with one hand and squinting in the darkness at the address scribbled on its surface. Yeah, this is the place._

_She can’t really imagine what_ sort _of place this is, and she doesn’t really think she wants to. Not that she really cares, but it’d be nice if every once in a while she could be provided with even_ some _sort of background information._

_Deciding that she’s just too fucking tired to wait around and play patient, she taps her palm on the desk’s surface three times, loud enough to be heard. “Hello?”_

_She hears rustling instantly, and then a door behind the desk is opening, a door Yena hadn’t even seen with how dark it is. A sliver of light floods through, and then it’s disappearing just as fast, a woman stepping through as she closes the door behind her. She’s quite old, the woman, dressed lavishly, although not in a way Yena would call tasteful, or stylish. She’s got glasses balanced on the tip of her nose, with pinted rims, bright red in colour. Her skin is wrinkled, although it’s pulled taut over her skull in awkward places, like someone had tried vacuuming her face at one stage and it had left her with undesirable results. Her dress is a shimmering gold, though again it hangs from her form awkwardly, tight in some places and loose in others, the fabric gaudy and cheap looking even at a first glance. Jewellery hangs from her neck, her wrists, her ears, dull and clanging against each other as she bustles over to the front of the desk to look down at Yena._

_She peers down her nose at her, facial features pinched like she’d just found a speck of dirt inconveniently wedged into the fabric of another one of those dresses. She grips onto the desk’s edge to get a better look at her, nails unnaturaly long, and sharp like talons. Her voice is scratchy when she speaks. “You’re not one of my girls,”_

_Yena gives her a funny look. “No,” she deadpans. She hikes up the rucksack she’s got hanging from one shoulder up higher, and the woman’s gaze darts over to it. “Delivery,”_

_“Oh, yes,” now that Yena thinks about it, her words are a little slurred as well. The sharp scent of alcohol comes along with it. “I’d forgotten about that, sorry, love. Room seven, it’s upstairs, first room on your right,” she gestures to the staircase to Yena’s left. “Just make sure you knock before you enter,”_

_“Uh, yeah,” Yena begins to walk away from the desk, not entirely comfortable with the vibes this woman is giving off. “Thanks,”_

_The woman smiles with thin lips, resting her chin in her palm. “Be careful, love,” the words meld together, practically coming out as one, but Yena catches what she says just fine. “You’re a pretty one. Might find yourself working two shifts,”_

_Yena frowns at her, confused, and making the decision to ignore her again, she turns away._

_She makes her way up the stairs, cringing at the way they creak with her added weight, and turns to the right like the woman had instructed her. She finds herself faced with another door, with a faded number seven on the front. She can’t hear any noise coming from inside, just the scent of perfume getting stronger the further into the building she travels. Tentatively, she knocks thrice, sharply, making sure it can be heard._

_It takes a moment or two, but then, she’s being answered. “Yeah, come in!” the voice is male, low and gruff, and Yena instinctively rolls her eyes. “Just gimme a sec, wait there,”_

_Yena smiles bitterly to herself, reaching for the doorknob and giving it a twist. Like hell she’s going in and waiting around, she knows better than that. She’s keeping the door wide open, the hallways, both downstairs and up, mapped out in her mind, just in case._

_She opens the door, and involuntarily, her eyes go a little wide._

_The room isn’t dissimilar to the rest of the building, everything is dark, the walls, the floorboards. But while the hallways and the entrance were completely unfurnished, the room is decorated in such a fashion that it reminds Yena of how the woman was dressed. There’s a couch, deep red and velvet, placed towards the back wall, coated in different throws, that shimmer softly, and placed atop them are plush cushions with tacky gold trimmings. The lighting is low, coming from a lamp on a nightstand that’s placed next to the couch. That, and the neon lighting that lines the edge where the walls meet the ceiling, a blood-red in colour that spills out in the hallway._

_But shit, Yena’s not paying attention to that, doesn’t take in any of that. What she’s more focused on is what’s on top of the couch._

_Lain on it lengthways, with her head propped up on the armrest, is a girl. Her complexion is pale, soaking up the deep scarlet of the lights, a colour to match the bright shade of her hair. That hair that falls in front of her half-open eyes, unkempt yet sleek looking, like she’d run her fingers through it one too many times. She’s wearing a large button down shirt, white, the first four buttons undone and the material falling from one of her shoulders. The shirt is so big it hangs down to her thighs, where beneath them, Yena just about catches sight of leather straps hugging her flesh._

_Upon her entering, the girl’s neck turns around to look at her, a languid, unhurried movement. Dark smudges of makeup are smeared around her eyes, lips stained something dark, and her gaze is lidded as it drinks Yena in. Just slightly, her lips curve._

_And Yena stares right back. Unconsciously, her hand grips onto her bag a little tighter, squeezing it and holding her breath._

_She thinks she might have an idea of where she is now._

_Cutting through her thoughts, a door is thrown open from the right ride of the room, a bright white pooling into the room before it’s shut again, and the red once again takes over. A man, presumably the one that spoken, enters noisily, fingers tousling at a reducing hairline. Yena doesn’t pay much attention to him, she doesn’t want to._

_The man looks at her expectantly, smiling at her normally, which in a situation like this Yena would consider as wildly abnormal. “This is my first time buying from you,” he states. “How do you work?”_

_Yena bites her tongue, unable to stop herself from glaring a little. “How anyone else does,” she quips, because it’s a stupid fucking question, really. One he knows the answer to too, but he’s chancing his arm anyways. Yena doesn’t have time for this; she’s fucking wrecked, and yeah, a little pissy because of it. “Payment first,”_

_The man nods, and leafs around his pockets, producing a wallet. “You’re not much for conversation,” his tone is lighthearted, and Yena honestly feels sick._

_“I’m not here for conversation,” she keeps her tone monotonous all the while._

_She can still feel the girl’s gaze on her. She can see her in her in peripherals, and she hasn’t budged._

_Yena swallows._

_Her attention is back on the man again once he hands over a wad of bills, which Yena wordlessly accepts. She leafs through it, counting, her teeth gritting when he starts talking again. “My name is Dongmin, by the way. These deliveries are going to be regular, so I expect we’ll be seeing each other often,”_

_Yena heaves a sigh, taking her bag off her shoulder and opening it up, putting the money inside once she’s deemed it a satisfactory amount. “I’m covering a shift,” she drawls. “You won’t be seeing me again after tonight,”_

_Dongmin hums, not doing anything to mask his disappointment. “What a shame that is,”_

You’re a pretty one. Might find yourself working two shifts.

_Yena’s stomach churns._

_From the bag, she produces a plastic bag, wrapped in cellophane so many times it’s near impossible to see the small, brightly coloured tablets that are inside. Yena hands it over to him, which he takes off of her with two greedy hands, Yena retracting her arm as fast as possible._

_“You work under Min Chanwook?”_

_Yena really wishes he’d stop fucking talking. “Yeah,”_

_Dongmin hums, slowly nodding. “Heard he’s got a hell of a fucking bounty on his head. Though I suppose it doesn’t matter much if you’re nto going to be coming back. I doubt he cares for his runners anyway,”_

_The only way Yena’s keeping herself sane is by imaging the way she could reach into his throat and rip out his voice box. “Was that supposed to be an insult?”_

_Dongmin laughs at that, but doesn’t reply. Like the woman downstairs, his voice is scratchy. Briefly, Yena wonders what the girl’s voice sounds like._

_Her gaze unknkowingly drifts back over to her, lain on the couch, and she’s still looking at her. Her gaze is something dark, sultry thanks to the brown around her eyes, and it’s… intense. She’s attractive, Yena has no issue with admitting that, she wouldn’t be of much use in a place like this otherwise. But there’s just something about her, something that Yena can’t quite put her finger on, something about her that’s…_

_Well, it’s fucking terrifying. Something about her shakes Yena to her very core._

_Dongmin seems to take notice of her staring, and off to the side, he raises an eyebrow. “You can leave now,”_

_Yena blinks at him, eyes flitting from the girl, to him, to the girl, and back to him again. "Yeah," she nods her head, cursing herelf internally. She gestures towards the drugs in his hand. “Enjoy,”_

_Dongmin’s lips twist into something sick. “I will,” he replies simply, but there’s something beneath his words that makes Yena want to get out of this room as fast as she possibly can._

_Just before she leaves, she catches the girl’s eye again. Her eyes are still drooped, but this time, she raises her head a little. Her lips curve into that almost-smile again, and she raises her hand slightly in a small wave._

_Swallowing thickly, Yena gives her a quick nod, before leaving the room and closing the door briskly behind her._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A slow smile speads on Chaeyeon’s lips, contrary to Yena’s expectations. “So that was you,” she muses. “The infamous Choi Yena was the pretty girl who gave us a once-off delivery,” she lets out a short breath of laughter, although it’s not the humorous kind. “You really blossomed from the concrete didn’t you?”

Yena raises a brow at her. It’s not the reaction she’d been expecting, but she can work with this. “You keep flattering me,” she drones. “I really hate to say it but it’s not going to get you very far,” 

Chaeyeon laughs again. “Why, are you sad I don’t remember you?”

Yena pushes the gun a little closer into her skin as a silent warning. “You fucking wish I was,”

“It was always dark in that room, I was probably drunk as shit. I don’t think about what happened in there, but…” she trails off, and she simpers, eyes turning to something dark. “I thought of you _a lot_ ,”

Ah. A double entendre. Just what Yena needs with a girl pressed up close against her. 

“That so,” she replies in a murmur. Her hand slides down from where it’s tangled in Chaeyeon’s hair, running a single finger down her neck. Chaeyeon shudders again. 

Yena leans back in to capture her lips again, and against her mouth, Chaeyeon lets out a soft sigh. Yena has no reason or excuse now, she’s not trying to lure her into anything, she’s already exposed herself. But that greed, that temptation to satisfy her need for self indulgence that so often wins her over doesn’t disappoint. Because Chaeyeon is just as she was in that room from before, dark, blood-red hair and a gaze so intimidating, so _terrifying_ , it makes something ravenous uncurl in the pit of Yena’s stomach. 

It’s like she’s fucking hungry for it.

She keeps the preassure on Chaeyeon’s jaw with the gun, a constant reminder, because no matter what’s happening right now, Chaeyeon’s still trying to sell her off, and not a chance in hell she’s letting that happen. She doesn’t doubt that Chaeyeon herself has some sort of weapon on her, so, still kissing her, she moves her hand away from her neck and slides it down. Her fingers catch on a holster at her waist, brushing against something cool, something metallic. Yena closes her grip around the gun that’s wedged inside it, taking it out and tossing it to the ground carelessly. It clatters noisily against the tiles, but the sound is drowned out by the hitch in Chaeyeon’s breath when Yena threads her fingers into her hair again. 

Maybe Yena gets a little too caught up in the sensations. She’s always been one to want whatever it is she can’t get, not wanting whatever she can, and right now, Chaeyeon is something that’s completely off the table. She’s terrifying, shit, she curdles the blood that pumps through Yena’s veins, but that’s fucking _exhilerating._

Maybe Yena likes fucking around with fears. Maybe this scares her, and maybe that’s why she’s doing it.

She gets too caught up in the sensations. Gets too caught up in Chaeyeon.

How unlike her.

Before she can even register it, the gun is being batted out of her hands, and she jolts away from Chaeyeon sharply. As an instinct, her finger presses down on the trigger, just before it slips from her hold, and blindly, a bullet is shot. Yena’s heart skips several beats, yet all within the span of just a couple milliseconds, as the bullet collides with the flickering light above them. It shatters, into thousands of tiny little pieces, shards of glass coming down upon them like rain.

At the same time, and taking advantage of how off guard she is, Chaeyeon pushes Yena off of her. Eyes blown wide in shock, Yena can’t do anything as Chaeyeon grabs both of her wrists, pinning her to the side of the cubicle. Yena’s head knocks against the wall, and she lets out a dull groan, Chaeyeon’s grip on her wrists tight. 

Their roles have been reversed, just like that.

Once the pain in her head has lessened to a dull thrum, Yena stares at her, incredulous. “Are you fucking crazy?” she exclaims, struggling for a moment, but giving up once she realises that Chaeyeon’s got a grip on her like iron. “That shot could’ve killed either one of us!” she says it like she’s horrified, she _should_ be horrified. But the way her heart is thundering so loud against her ribcage, the way she can practically taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. God, it’s fucking addictive.

Chaeyeon’s lips quirk, practically the image of unbothered. “Maybe,” 

Yena grits her teeth. “So what are you gonna do?” she rests her head against the wall, letting out an exhale. “You’re really gonna fucking turn me in?”

Chaeyeon laughs lowly, like she finds her amusing. “What else do you expect me to do? You heard what I said, there are people who’d fucking kill to have your head on a silver platter,” she leans in a little closer, her breath fanning across Yena’s face. “Do you have any idea how much I’d get even if I handed you in cold?”

“Only a third of the full price. If even. I’ve been watching you all fucking night, they don’t give two flying fucks about you,”

Chaeyeon laughs again. “You think I think they give a shit about me? Of course they fucking don’t, but a deal’s a deal,”

Yena just stares at her. “And you really think they’re gonna hold it up?”

Chaeyeon’s jaw tenses, and her hold on Yena’s wrists tightens. “Do I look like I’ve much of a fucking choice? I told you, a debt is a debt, and it’s one I intend to pay,”

She’s so close to her. She’s so close that if Yena leaned a little further forward, she could kiss her again, but she pushes the thought to the back of her mind. “Come with me then,”

This time, it’s Chaeyeon who gives her an incredulous look, like Yena’s completely lost her mind. “What the fuck are you on?”

“I’m serious,” Yena insists. Something she can’t have is right in front of her, enticing her, only making her want it more. “You’ll make so much with me you won’t even be able to think straight. Debt?” she scoffs. “Not even in my fucking vocabulary,”

Chaeyeon looks at her blankly, but Yena can sense her mind racing. “And why would I do that?”

Yena shrugs. “More money, why the hell wouldn’t you,” her eyes glint. “And didn’t you mention something before about how you couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

Again, Chaeyeon doesn’t reply, but she does narrow her eyes. 

Yena leans in closer, and her voice drops to something just above a whisper. “Maybe my bounty is more than both of theirs combined,” she tilts her head to the side, ensuring that Chaeyeon is looking at her. She hooks her ankle around Chaeyeon’s calf. “But I’m sure that one of theirs is worth more than a third of mine,”

Chaeyeon looks at her for a few more moments longer, and Yena swears she sees her eyes dart down to her lips, before they’re snapping back up again.

And then, with a sigh, Chaeyeon’s letting go of her wrists.

Completely taken aback, Yena’s arms just fall to her sides, not expecting that as a reaction at all. She blinks, rubbing subconsciously at the skin of her wrists, as Chaeyeon takes a step back from her.

Very slowly, very carefully, Chaeyeon speaks. “Like hell I’d go anywhere with you,” she says it bitingly, mockingly, like how absurd of a suggestion it even was in the first place. She reaches for the bolt on the door. “Kind of a shame we had it out to kill each other. You kiss good,” her eyes glint at that last part, and before Yena can respond, she’s leaving the cubicle, her footsteps sharp on the floor as she leaves the bathroom entirely. 

A little stunned, Yena stands in that same position for a few moments, pushing her hair off her forehead and letting out a soft breath.

Oh, this isn’t good.

Yena kind of wants her now.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Yena listens intently, drowned in the shadows, her back pressed up against the stone wall behind her as she turns her neck to the side. She strains to hear the voices that come from over her shoulder, not daring to step out from behind the wall in case she gets caught. 

Her tongue pokes at her cheek thoughtfully, and she taps her fingernails into the wall, the rough surface making her shudder despite the sweltering heat. This wasn’t exactly how she’d expected things to go, but shit, less work for her she supposes. 

“No. No, you can’t be serious,” a male voice, maybe a bit higher than average, petulant sounding.

“I’m dead fucking serious,” Chaeyeon’s voice, Yena recognises it immediately. It’s leveled, controlled. “I know what you guys have on you, don’t even bother. Drop it all,” 

A disbelieving laugh, from the second man, something a little gruffer. “You wouldn’t really-”

A resounding click. One of Yena’s favourite sounds, the familiar satisfaction of the safety being turned off. “Oh, I would,” 

A momentary silence, and then the sounds of different objects falling to the floor with dull clanging noise, Yena assumes a different variety of weapons. They’ll rain down on the floor, there’ll be a short pause, and then another noise will follow it, but eventually they cease. 

“What are you gonna do?” One man asks. “We’ve got nothing, no money. What do you expect to steal?” 

The answer from Chaeyeon comes immediately, sharp and cutting. “Perhaps so. But handing you both in?” She lets out a soft laugh. “That’ll get me more money than I’d ever get hanging around with you,” 

Then comes a hiss. “You fucking backstabbing bi-”

Whichever man it was that had been speaking, he’s cut off by the sound of a bullet ripping through the air, being projected from the barrel, a bird somewhere close starting to caw in protest. It doesn’t hit; a warning shot.

“Shut up. I don’t care,” Chaeyeon sounds like she’s clenching her teeth, and Yena doesn’t do anything to stop the slow simper that smears itself on her lips. “Just start walking. I want to hand you in alive, but shit if you fucking test me, I will have _no_ problem handing you in cold,” 

Yena starts to think that maybe she came out here for nothing. She’d wanted the two men for herself to hand in, but she hadn’t expected Chaeyeon to be here. She hadn’t expected Chaeyeon to turn on them like this; although she can’t say that it hasn’t been entertaining to listen to. 

Not really wanting to stick around if there’s nothing here for her, Yena pushes herself off the wall she was leaning against, dusting down her hands. She makes way to peek around the corner to slip away without either of the three seeing her, but then, all of a sudden, there’s a loud irregularity of footsteps. 

Yena finds herself tensing. 

Following those footsteps is a gunshot. Yena waits, waits for the bullet to become embedded, into _something,_ for that dull _thunk_ of metal melting with flesh, but it doesn’t come. After a couple more seconds, she hears the soft clattering of a bullet hitting a wall, and coming down on the floor. 

Yena’s mouth runs dry.

_Shit._

Whoever she’d shot at, Chaeyeon had missed. 

There’s yells. Shouting. The sound of a gun clanging against the ground as it falls. 

The sound of running.

It takes Yena a couple milliseconds, but it’s not long before she realises that the running footsteps are approaching her. Shit, without a gun, Chaeyeon’s instantly outnumbered. She must be the one running from them. 

The footsteps get louder and louder, and Yena _knows_ she’s safe, knows it’s so dark she can’t be seen, and she drums her fingertips against the wall, sucking in a sharp breath. It’s a risk, depending on how close they are to her she could expose her position, get them _both_ caught, and that wouldn’t make for much of a fun time at all. 

Yena lets out a sigh.

_Oh, fuck it._

Yena reaches out once the footsteps are at their loudest, and just as Chaeyeon runs by her, she grabs a hold of her arm and tugs her into the pitch black of the alleyway. Chaeyeon lets out a yelp, but it’s cut off when Yena clamps her hand over her mouth. She draws her as close as possible, Chaeyeon’s back to her chest, and presses her own back into the stone wall to meld into the shadows as much as she can. 

On instinct, Chaeyeon thrashes against her hold, cries muffled into her palm, her hands clawing at Yena’s arm in an attempt to wrench her off of her. 

Yena grits her teeth, resisting, before leaning close into Chaeyeon’s ear. “Stop,” she hisses. “Stop or we’ll be caught,” 

She doesn’t know whether or not Chaeyeon recognises her voice, or whether it’s because she hears rapid footsteps advancing, but she stops struggling. They both still, as the footsteps grow louder, and if anything, Yena thinks that Chaeyeon holds onto her a little tighter. 

The footsteps peak, and Yena sees a flash of movement amidst the darkness. They runs right by them, probably totally unaware that the turn was even there.

They stay still for a few moments longer, until the rapid footsteps fade into silence. Once Yena’s sure that they’re gone, she lets Chaeyeon go, and even in the dark, she sees the girl visibly relax. But, just as quick, she’s sharply turning around to look at her, eyes blazing. She looks Yena up and down like she can’t quite believe she’s there, maybe even a little angry. Whatever it is, Yena finds herself revelling in it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Chaeyeon hisses, lips curled into a snarl.

Yena gives her a languid sort of smile, leaning against the wall again. “Bounty hunting,” she says it like it was obvious. “But you beat me to it, spoiled my game. I’ve still got those two guys on my radar, you know, whether you’re in the picture or not,” she stuffs her hands into her pockets, leaning forward. “I thought you said you had a debt to repay, hm?”

Chaeyeon crosses her arms. “I worked my way around it,” she replies vaguely. 

“So then you went and stole my idea and thought you’d hand them in yourself,”

“You can think that all you like,”

“I will,” Yena nods her head, before raising her chin to gesture in the direction that the man had run off in. “I just saved your ass there. Just so you know,”

“I would’ve gotten out just fine, thanks,”

“You sound so sure,”

“Maybe I am,”

“But does it perhaps ever cross your mind that if I hadn’t been here-”

Her sentence is cut off by Chaeyeon’s fingers curling around the collar of her shirt, and before Yena can even register it, Chaeyeon tugs her in close to her, so close that their noses are practically brushing. “Has anyone ever told you,” Chaeyeon speaks slowly, quietly. _Dangerously_ so. “That you talk too much,” 

That threatening glint in her eye, bordering on something wild. And shit, Yena wants it so bad. 

Her hand flies up to grip at Chaeyeon’s wrist, and she grits her teeth through a smile. “It might’ve been mentioned before,” she offers airily. “I think I need a reminder, though,”

Chaeyeon just keeps looking down at her, something about the way she’s just slightly taller than her enough to drive Yena just a little bit crazy.

Slowly, Chaeyeon begins to lean in, but _just_ before she can do anything, _just_ as their lips brush, Yena’s placing a hand on her chest, gently pushing her back. “Ah ah ah,”

Chaeyeon raises a brow, clearly unimpressed. She doesn’t speak, but the question is implied. _What?_

Yena lazily winds her free arm around Chaeyeon’s shoulders, her fingertips brushing against the area in between her shoulder blades. She walks herself backwards so that her back comes into contact with the wall, and traces her upper lip with her tongue. “Like it or not,” she breathes out. “I just saved you. And I distinctly remember you saying that you pay your debts when they’re due,”

At that, Chaeyeon rolls her eyes. “What do you want?”

Yena ignores that comment, continuing on. “We’re both on our own now, and that’s not good for either of us. You’ll have a bounty on your head after tonight, those guys will want their revenge,” she readjusts her grip on Chaeyeon’s grip. “Work with me, and all you’ll have to worry about is how you’re going to lug all of the money we’ve got home,” 

Chaeyeon laughs at that, breath warm on Yena’s face. “You’re that confident,”

“You don’t know what money really is until you’re with me,”

Chaeyeon leans in that fraction closer again, so that their lips brush when she speaks. “You’re sounding a bit obsessive,”

Yena threads her fingers into her hair, just like she’d done last time, and she catches the way Chaeyeon’s lips twitch at the movement. “I am,” she blatantly admits, shaking her hair out of her eyes. “That’s the kind of drive that you-” she lets go of Chaeyeon’s wrist to point a finger into her chest. “-are looking for,” 

Chaeyeon regards her for a few moments longer, and this time, when her eyes drift down to Yena’s lips, she isn’t subtle about it at all. They linger there, and Yena’s breath becomes caught in her throat. 

“Fine,” Chaeyeon’s voice is distracted. Her eyes snap back up to Yena’s, swimming with something dark, something that makes Yena thinks might make her lose her fucking mind. “If everything’s as good as you say it is, then I’m in,”

Yena can’t stop herself from grinning. She pushes herself up onto her toes to match Chaeyeon’s height, moving her other arm to lace around her shoulder too. “Better,” she breathes out softly, and thinking that she might drive herself mad if she has to wait any longer, she pulls Chaeyeon in.

It’s different to how Chaeyeon had kissed her back in that cubicle. Something a bit more unrestrained, Yena shuddering as she feels her hands smoothing over her skin. It’s like she’s in less control of herself, which Yena definitely doesn’t complain about, unable to prevent the gasp that spills from her lips when Chaeyeon gives the collar of her shirt another tug.

Inside of Yena, something purrs contentedly, and whatever it is, she couldn’t agree with it more.

She’s got her right where she wants her. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I work quick,”

“Mmh. Alright then,”

“No like,” Yena insists. “I work _fast_. You’ll have to work if you want to-”

“ _Yen,”_ the nickname rolls of Chaeyeon’s tongue all too nicely, and Yena’s becoming all too comfortable with the way it sounds on her ears. Chaeyeon looks her in the eye, relaxed, leaning back in her seat. The lights of the club are red, a shade similar to the ones that had lined the walls the first time Yena had seen her. She still looks just as good, the dark colour still melds with her skin all too well, still makes her hair look just as bright. The entire time they’ve been here, Yena practically hasn’t been able to tear her eyes off of her, even if their target is sat on the far side of the room. “I can keep up,”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Red just seems to follow Chaeyeon wherever she goes. It’s like the world _knows_ just how well it suits her, just how good it treats her, and gives up the colour to her no matter where they are. 

They’d moved from the club to this shitty motel, where the price for the night was just a little too cheap to be normal, not that either of them had any intentions of paying either way. The room is small, cramped, and without chairs, so they’ve resorted to sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table, a large spread of takeaway food spread out before them, and a variety of equally intoxicating drinks. 

Yena takes one of the bottles into her hands, not really all too sure which one it is, she’s a little dazed, and drinks straight from it, letting out a sharp hiss at the bitter taste and scrunching up her face accordingly. Next to her, she hears Chaeyeon laugh. 

“You need help coping that bad?” 

Shit, it’s not that Yena needs coping with. She’s sat in the same room as fresh body bags before, that’s nothing new. She’d had it in her line of sight practically the entire time they’d stayed here, right up until they’d sold it off and been rewarded substantially. That’s routine, Yena’s been through that before, she doesn’t need help coping with that. 

It’s Chaeyeon she needs help coping with. 

Of course the motel had to have neon lighting. Of course Chaeyeon had to turn it to red. There’s just something about having her so close to her now, with that pleasantly hazy cloud settled over her mind thanks to the bottle in her hand. 

Something about the way the red of that girl’s blood had looked on her hands. Something about it that had sent Yena into a daze that this alcohol could only _fathom,_ and thinking about it now, while seeing her in the red of the lights…

It’s chilling. She’s scary. Chaeyeon is fucking scary. 

And Yena kind of likes fucking around with what scares her. 

Yena had promised her more money that she ever could’ve imagined, but Chaeyeon doesn’t seem as though she was quite prepared for it. They’ve got bags fucking bulging with it, all cash, and Yena can still picture the expression on Chaeyeon’s face when they’d first been presented with it. Lips parted, eyes wide. Wide with a _hunger._

Setting down the can of whatever it was she’d been drinking on the table. She stands up, and surveys the bags they’d thrown onto the ratty couch. Yena watches her, amused. “You alright?” 

Chaeyeon lets out a short breath, sounding like she’s in disbelief. “Shit, it’s-” she tousles at the roots of her hair with her fingers. “-it’s just so fucking much,” 

Yena’s lips curl. “I did say it. You don’t know what real money is ‘till you’re with me,” 

Chaeyeon picks up one of the bags, a little entranced. She opens it up, peering inside, and lets out another dry laugh. “Like this…” she shakes her head in disbelief, holding it out for Yena to see. “I could throw this whole bag away and it wouldn’t change a goddamn thing,” she digs her hand inside, takes out a handful of notes, and tosses them out as if to prove her point. 

Under the red lighting, the notes appear dark, void of their usual colour, flitting gently to the floor like they’ve got all the time in the world. 

Clicking her tongue, Yena shakes her head. “What, do you expect me to start dancing now?” She jokes.

At that, Chaeyeon laughs. It’s an unfiltered sound, unapologetically loud, and the sound only tugs harder at the corners of Yena’s lips. “You do seem like the type that would be good,” 

She knows how to stroke at Yena’s ego, something that Yena’s really not all too bothered about. “I am,” Yena confirms with a nod of her head. 

“That so,”

“Mmh,”

“It’s funny, I wouldn’t call myself bad either,” Chaeyeon moves to sit down next to her, but she lies down this time instead, the strong colour of her hair stark against the floor. 

Yena scoffs. “What, are you making this into a competition?”

“Not at all,” Chaeyeon replies languidly, reaching out and picking up one of the many notes that had fallen to the floor. It’s a fifty thousand won note, and she holds it up with one hand, like she can’t quite believe it. “I’m just saying. It’s not something I’d turn down,” 

Yena scoffs again. “Not tonight. Not anytime soon ever, I’m fucking exhausted. I think I’ll sleep for days after this,”

Chaeyeon laughs again at that, and then she’s tossing the note somewhere to the side, where it gently falls to the ground to join all the others. Yena sees her shifting, watches as she pulls a packet of cigarettes out of a pocket, and takes one out. Under the light, the white paper appears as a soft shade of pink, stark against the dark of Chaeyeon’s lips when she places it between her teeth. She pats herself down again, before letting out a soft sigh. “I forgot my fucking lighter,” she huffs out, words a little incoherent. “Have you..?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Yena’s mind is a little slow, but she digs her hand around inside her own pocket, letting out a little hum of triumph when her fingers close around the familiar rectangular object. 

She moves so that she hovers above Chaeyeon, kneeling with her calves bracketing her hips, and perhaps it’s a little bold, but Chaeyeon doesn’t seem to mind. 

Then, an idea pops into Yena’s head. 

_I could throw this whole bag away and it wouldn’t change a goddamn thing._

Coy, Yena reaches out and picks up one of the notes closest to them. She feels Chaeyeon’s eyes on her, inquisitive, but she ignores it no matter how much her body urges her to look back. She holds the note by its edge, and in her other hand, she flicks on the lighter. 

In her peripherals, she can see Chaeyeon’s gaze darken, and Yena’s stomach dips at the reaction. 

She watches as a flame is sparked, burning a bright red, and holds the note over the fire. It takes a moment, both her and Chaeyeon watching intently, but after a moment or two it starts to work. The flame begins to lick at the paper, lapping it up like a starved man, and when Yena retracts the lighter it still continues to burn. Smiling softly to herself, she leans down, black hair falling over her shoulder with the movement. She places one hand next to Chaeyeon’s torso to support herself, while the other one holds the burning note to the tip of her cigarette. 

It takes a moment or two, like it had before, but eventually the flame begins to consume the cigarette’s tip, glowing softly in the dark red of the room.

Chaeyeon is looking at her like she wants to rip her apart. 

Only just about able to stop herself from squirming, Yena holds the note up to her lips, blowing on it until the flame is put out. 

Chaeyeon’s taken a drag of her cigarette at this stage, and she’s retracted it from her lips, staring up at Yena with something akin to awe. “Holy shit,” 

Yena finally looks at her, quirking a brow. 

“That was-” she sees Chaeyeon swallow. “You’re so fucking hot,” 

Yena laughs softly at that, and like before, something inside of her preens at the praise. She moves the rest of her hair over her shoulder, before leaning down a little closer. She doesn’t respond to Chaeyeon’s statement, but rather focuses on her instead. She reaches out, combs her fingers through her hair. “Has anyone ever told you…” her voice comes out breather than she intended it to. She doesn’t think she could do much to stop it. “Just how good you look under red lights?” 

Chaeyeon arches a brow at her, putting the cigarette back between her lips and humming in question. 

Yena shakes her head. “That first night,” she starts. “The room was practically bathed in red. You looked fucking unreal, I couldn’t stop looking at you,” she swallows, and suddenly, in this shitty hotel room, it’s all too hot. “Red lights like these. Red hair,” her eyes flit down to Chaeyeon’s upturned palms. “Red on your hands,” 

Chaeyeon raises her chin, just slightly, at that.

Yena’s voice quivers. “It’s driving me fucking insane,” 

Chaeyeon’s eyes take on the bloody tones from the light, black glinting red, and Yena feels her hands slowly inch up to hold her waist. 

God, she really can’t stand the build up. 

But Chaeyeon seems intent on taking her time. Her lips brush against Yena’s when she talks, barely-there murmurs that spread across her skin like wildfire. “I think,” she presses a single finger to Yena’s chest when she leans in too close. “That you might just be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” 

Chaeyeon tastes addictive; something blatantly artificial, like cherries. Artificial cherries and smoke and something scarily addictive that Yena can't seem to get enough of.

She grips Yena’s waist, harder.

One corner of Chaeyeon’s lips turn up slightly - just slightly - like she knows something Yena doesn't. She gently tangles her legs with Yena’s, so little so that Yena wouldn't have noticed if her senses weren't so heightened. 

Pulling back in the slightest amount, Chaeyeon’s eyes bore into Yena’s as she taps the cigarette that's pinched between her fingers against the edge of the coffee table, the grey ash falling silently onto the scattering of notes, before bringing it to her lips and taking a drag.

She’s dangerous. So fucking dangerous when she's like this, but Yena doesn't care. Wants more of it.

Chaeyeon raises a hand to tap Yena’s lips, and Yena lets them part accordingly. She feels her own muscles tense in anticipation as Chaeyeon leans in closer, eyes alight with something Yena can’t recognise as she gently breathes out the smoke into Yena’s mouth. 

Fuck, Yena can’t get enough of her. 

Chaeyeon doesn't pull back after the smoke is gone, and if anything, she presses her lips to Yena’s with more insistence, letting her hand wander to stroke Yena’s neck soothingly.

Chaeyeon’s skin burns. 

It's scalding, and Yena knows it'll burn off her own flesh if she touches it for too long. But she lets her hands do as they please, allowing her fingers to dip in between each ridge of Chaeyeon’s spine, each irregularity of her ribs. 

She feels like something Yena shouldn't be allowed to touch, which only makes Yena want to touch her more. Always wanting what she can’t have.

Chaeyeon breathes out a soft curse after she pulls back, eyes fluttering open. She sits up, those harsh shades of red entwining themselves into the strands of her hair, smothering themselves over her skin, and Yena just stares at her in awe. 

Everything is red. Everything she sees is red - Chaeyeon is red, her skin, her hair, her hands. Everything about her is red and Yena’s fucking hooked on it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Red.

All Yena can see is red. 

She stands, frozen to the spot, as she watches the knife slice through the skin that’s pulled taught over Chaeyeon’s cheekbone, feeling like time is going by in slow motion.

It’s not a deep cut, it’s probably just a nick, but at the sight of deep scarlet pooling against Chaeyeon’s skin, her _own_ blood-

Shit Yena just sees fucking red.

They’re not supposed to kill any of them, they’re supposed to hand them in alive, but everything rational is just thrown out of Yena’s head. Hands working on their own, she drops her own knife to the floor, hearing it clatter loudly against the floor with the sound echoing throughout the warehouse. The sound catches Chaeyeon’s attention, and from where she’s stooped over, heel of her palm pressed to the blood oozing from her face, Yena can see what she’s saying. She can’t hear her, over the noise, but she can read her lips. 

“Yen-”

Yena fires a bullet. It hits, a dull _thunk_ followed by a sickening squelching noise. She fires a second, and a third, until her shoulder begins to ache with the reverberation, but she keeps going, not satisfied, each gunshot followed by the sound of metal becoming one with tissue. 

“Yen!” 

Yena can hardly hear her. They’re dead, shit they’re all fucking dead, but no one touches her. No one can lay a fucking finger on her and expect to get away with it. There’s no bullets left, she’d fired them all, and she grits her teeth, so hard her jaw aches with the tension. 

Blindly, she ruffles through the pouches strapped to her form, fingers quivering as she tears them open, mind only honed in on reloading. 

“Yena!” Footsteps. Quick, irregular footsteps, and suddenly Chaeyeon is in front of her.

She grips into Yena’s shoulders tightly, practically out of breath, but her eyes are desperate. They search through her urgently, but all Yena can see is the shallow gash on her face. She can’t even see it, there’s too much blood on her face, smeared over her skin with her hair stuck to it. 

“They’re dead!” Chaeyeon exclaims, and like Yena’s fingertips, her voice shakes. “They’re fucking dead, stop!” 

At the sheer desperation in her voice, Yena’s head clears a little, being brought right back down to earth. She blinks at her like she’d just woken up from a slumber, and delicately, she raises a hand to cup Chaeyeon’s cheek. Her thumb glides through the thin coating of blood, sticky on her skin. “Are you okay?” Her voice comes out hoarse. 

Chaeyeon looks at her incredulously. “This?” She points to her face. “That’s what this is about? Yen- shit, I can’t even fucking feel it! It’s probably just because it’s on my face, I…” she trails off, taking in a breath, having spoken much too fast, but Yena had picked up on every single word. 

“Are _you_ okay?” 

No. No, Yena’s not okay. She’s fucking terrified. 

She’d really thought Chaeyeon was hurt, and she’d reacted like that, she-

Her eyes dart around, catching sight of the slumped bodies scattered around the place. Shit, none of them will be worth anything now, mists of blood still wafting through the air from fresh gunshot wounds, a couple of them moving just slightly, fighting for their last breath.

“No no no,” Chaeyeon takes her face into her hands, forcing her to look at her. “Don’t look at them, look at me,” she keeps Yena’s eyes on her. “Are you alright?”

Yena’s terrified. It dawns on her slowly, seeping into her pores and burning her harshly from the insides.

She really cares for her. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The city is bathed in red. 

Her and Chaeyeon are crouched down low, stood on the roof of a building and peering down at a small group of people gathered on the street below. 

It’s dark, but the city doesn’t sleep, the skyline a desaturated shade of ruby before it melts into black, the final remains of the sun as it slips beneath the horizon. Red, from the hazard lights on the backs of cars, the streets lined with the stuff before it again fades out, looking so small with how high up they are. 

Yena rests her chin on her fist. There’s an entire city splayed out in front of her, ripe for the picking, but her eyes are on Chaeyeon. Chaeyeon herself is peering down at the group, surveying them. 

“I don’t know what you’re staring at me for,” she doesn’t even look at Yena when she speaks. 

Yena smirks. “What, am I not allowed to?” 

“You’re getting distracted,”

“You’re distracting,”

“Oh, so it’s my fault,”

Yena laughs gently, and moves her eyes away from Chaeyeon, and out towards the landscape. She drinks it in, the dark colours, dominated by that one shade. “This entire place,” she moves so that she’s sitting down, legs dangling off the building’s edge precariously. She sweeps her arm around, gesturing. “This city. I want it all,” 

It’s Chaeyeon who looks at her now, hair a stark contrast again the black of the sky. She gives her a once over, seeming amused. “Greedy thing,”

“Mmh. You’re not wrong,”

“And how do you suppose you’ll get it?”

Yena purses her lips, leaning back on her palms. “With you,”

Chaeyeon lets out a laugh at that, not too loud, out of fear of being heard. She just smiles at her, like she _cares,_ and shrugs her shoulders. “Alright then,” 

“You’re just as bad as I am,” 

“Touché,”

“Oh?” Yena leans forward, peering down. “They’re splitting. We should go,” 

Chaeyeon follows her line of sight, and hums, gathering herself to her feet. She looks down at Yena, and stretches out her hand. “Well,” her lips turn upwards at one corner. “I suppose that if you want it all, you’ve gotta start somewhere,” 

Yena accepts her hand, and Chaeyeon helps her to her feet. They’re stood close together, practically nose to nose, a position Yena’s all too familiar with. Her eyes flick down to Chaeyeon’s lips, back up again just as fast, and she lets out a laugh at the sight of her pupils dilating. She gives her chest a light shove, gently pushing her away.

“Let’s get going then,” 

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand thats that! yall i love chaeyena sm i rly need to write for them more. actually scratch that, this entire fandom does but shhhh i digress. tysm for reading, if you enjoyed i'd really appreciate a kudos or a comment! tysssm again, bye for now~
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/glitzyena)


End file.
